


Trash

by 5 Star Binch (thecannibalofoz)



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Angst, Angst?, M/M, MacDennis - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 12:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8143915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecannibalofoz/pseuds/5%20Star%20Binch
Summary: Mac and Dennis smoking by the trash outside Paddy's.





	

Cigarette smoke filled up Mac’s lungs as he inhaled deeply, feeling that familiar relief of nicotine entering his system. Dennis was sat with him, by the trash outside the bar. He averted his gaze from Dennis’ lips, which were wrapped around a joint, and instead tried to focus his attention on the Gang's’ latest plan. Although he was sober-well, he’d had one or two beers, but they don’t, count, really, he told himself- his thoughts were as clouded as they are when he’s high.

“This is good weed,” Dennis mumbled, preening his hair with his slender fingers. His eyes were hooded and baggy, the whites tinged with pink and scarlet cracks but Mac would never tell him that. Dennis already obsessed enough about his appearance, it was a wonder he hadn’t attempted to conceal each of the small blemishes Mac could make out at a glance, not that he cared or even would normally notice. Maybe he’s given up, he thought. No, not Dennis. Maybe there’s only so much he can conceal? 

“Right dude? Bought from the best dealer in Philly,”

“I remember when you were the best dealer in...high school. Well. Maybe not the best.”

Mac shrugged this off. Typical Dennis. He knew he wasn’t the best at anything really, maybe not even good. He could never be the best Christian; his thoughts and the things he whispered to himself late at night as he pawed at his underwear, trying not to picture a face but always inevitably seeing the one he was trying so hard not to. 

He tried to be the best manly man, the best badass, but even though he convinced the Gang and even himself that he was deluded enough to believe the weak facade, he knew deep down he was a pussy, a pathetic excuse of a man, not strong enough to ever achieve anything. He was never strong enough: he was Ronnie the Rat, the wimp son of the white trash.

He wondered whether Dennis had similar thoughts. Mac had almost childishly adored Dennis him for years; he’d originally been that boy who seemed unattainable from where he was sat, even if he was just dirt on the shoe of the truly popular kids. It wasn’t hard, really, to be on a higher rung than Mac, but Dennis seemed to be a million rungs above, and he used to wonder if he’d ever climb far enough to reach him.

It turned out he didn’t have to climb so far when Dennis was coming down, falling from his prime to sit with the rest of the rejects by the trash. Yet even then, it always seemed that he was one inch out of reach, and no matter how hard Mac pushed or how high he jumped he’d never quite touch him.

“Why…” Dennis gestured aimlessly, narrowing his eyes, “aren’t you partaking?”

“Oh,” Mac thought for a moment. Why wasn’t he getting stoned and shitfaced again? “Umm, well I wanted to stay sober, dude, y’know for the plan and everything? Also, I gave up weed for Lent, rememb-” It occurred to him that Dennis wasn’t listening to a word he was saying, and instead was mindlessly drawing circles on Mac’s arm, his fingers warming up his freezing cold skin.

“All your shirts, are shirtless….sleeveless. I mean sleeveless,” Dennis murmured, “And it’s so cold. What’s the point?”

“To look badass, man.”

Dennis sniggered, “Hope I live long enough to see that work out.”

Mac crushed the cigarette between his fingers and the floor, the hair all over his body standing on edge as Dennis placed his head on his shoulder. He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to make his breathing stay even. Like he didn’t care. But he lived for moments like this one.

“Your shouldershso comfy,” Dennis snuggled in further, voice muffled. He could feel the warmth of his breath against his skin.

Mac replied with a noncommittal grunt, resting his hand against Dennis’ thigh absentmindedly. He could stay like this forever, he thought, staring at Dennis’ lips as he relaxed into him. But moments so perfect could only ever be fleeting.

“What’s up, dickw- Mac, are you and Dennis cuddling?” Dee burst out of Paddy’s backdoor, eyebrows raised inquisitively. Mac sprung back instinctively, but Dennis just sank in further, not saying a word.

“Goddamnit Dee, do you have to jump out like that? No! He’s just tir-”

“Whatever, Mac. Anyway, I was wondering, Charlie and Frank are being real assholes about the plan and everything sooo, could I go with you guys?”

Mac sighed, “Yeah. Sure, whatever,”  
He couldn’t even remember what the plan was.

Dee gave him a once-pver, “You’re acting really weird. Like, shifty weird. Have you been planning something?! Please say you have because honestly, I’m lost…”

He drifted out of Dee’s nattering, instead focusing on the warm weight still slumped against his arm in a sleepy haze. Slowly, Dennis lifted himself up and straightened his back, trying to return to his ordinary self. He can’t let that wall down too much, Mac thought.

“Uhhh, Mac? Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, Dee. Just go start the car,” He turned to Dennis, “You going with us Den?”

Dennis started at him coolly, “Don’t be ridiculous, Mac. Charlie and Frank clearly had the best idea, and I’m going with the winners on this one.” He still tripped over his words, but they were cold as ever.

“Okay, dude. No need to be an ass about it.”

“I’m just being honest, Mac. You’ll see,” Dennis replied as he stood up, yawning and stretching, “See you later.”

The small orange glow of a lighter flashed again. Mac was still sat by the trash, but he was lighting up alone.

**Author's Note:**

> My first IASIP fic, still practicing writing the characters and thought might as well post this haha. Hope someone enjoys it!


End file.
